


allure

by knightargents



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Touch, Dubious Consent, Gen, M/M, Nezumi-centric, Other, Pre-Canon, Sex Work, Strippers & Strip Clubs, i mean no.6 is based on the real world so like...theres no difference really, its modern because it takes place in a shitty downtown area instead of an overtly obvious dystopia, shion isnt in this fic, underage because he's still in high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 04:12:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13473450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightargents/pseuds/knightargents
Summary: Nezumi knows he’s attractive. He also knows he has bills to pay.





	allure

***

The steam rises from the water, heating up the entire bathroom. It's juxtaposed to an hour earlier, where the cold from outside seeped into his bones as he came home from work. It’s been a long damn weekend, an end to yet another long and stressful month. He edges down further into the hot bath, letting it soothe and loosen up his tense muscles. Usually he bathes with the lights dimmed, but not tonight. He’s had to work an extra shift at the club, when he left it was well past 5 a.m. He wants some damn light. Whatever, he’ll skip school tomorrow. His bills are paid and luckily, none of his teachers assigned homework over the weekend. The thought of his bills however, reminds him of this whole past month.

See, Nezumi knows he’s. Attractive. He knows it objectively, knows it enough to know how to use it to his advantage. Knows it enough to know when to see it.

He sees it in the way girls look at him during school. They’re like girls everywhere, stealing glances and mouthing to the other girls next to them while sitting tables away during lunch. He mostly ignores it, years of using his face and body has showed him enough to know he’s attractive. Mostly it annoys him. They know he notices them, right? That he’s not deaf? Sometimes they don’t try to hide it, wherever they go. Whether it’s a subtle attempt at elbowing their friends when he passes them by through the hallways or the sudden burst of Instagram notifications that lets him know his followers well, _appreciate_ him. He _knows_ , ok? He knows enough to again not be bothered when he’s grocery shopping at the Kroger a few blocks away from his school and the older woman behind the pharmacy stares at him as he picks out cheap over-the-counter sleeping pills. They’re weak but thankfully they get the job done when he’s stressed out of his mind and has school the next day. In some ways, the lady is worse than the girls at school, outright staring instead of sneaky little glances. In some ways, she’s better. At least they’re separated by a pane of glass and she can’t touch him. Nezumi doesn’t know if she knows he knows she’s staring. He picks out the Valerian pills and walks away. He’s used to a lot of things and knows when to just brush them off. If he let every glance and stare get under his skin, he’d never make it out of his shitty life alive.

So, whatever, he’s used to overt stares too.

Used to them enough that he usually just ignores the women. They never have an affect on him and he knows they won’t try shit. Yeah he sees that he’s attractive and these women just reinforce that.

The water is starting to get warm, so sits up and unplugs the drain and let’s half of it go down, watching the little tornado form as he shivers. When the water barely passes his mid thigh when he’s stretched out and laid down, he turns the faucet all the way and let’s the boiling water fill the tub up again. He sinks down again and looks to the left, where he took down his mirror and stares at his reflection. Even though it should piss him off, he doesn’t really blame people for staring, he can clearly see why they would.

Mostly he sees it when the old men breathe down his neck at the club. Hands on his shoulders, hands on his waist, hands on the back of his neck, hands on his thighs. Those hands tell him more than the little giggles ever will.

He sees how attractive he is in these men. The way their eyes bulge when he’s on stage, the way their pants bulge when he spreads his legs.

He sees it in every single and five dollar bill he counts that was thrown at him at the end of the day. He sees it when the man - dress pants and a button up, for fuck’s sake - has his arm thrown around Nezumi’s shoulders. Who the hell comes down to this shitty club wearing _dress pants_ unless they want to get mugged? Even if the man’s rich cologne and trimmed beard didn’t give him away, it’s obvious to everyone who sees him that the man is an outsider. There’s something fat pressing into Nezumi’s thigh from his spot on the man’s lap, and Nezumi knows the other dancers will hate him even more now for the amount of money he’s about to get at the end of the night alone. Fingers slip through the straps on Nezumi’s dress and he knows that all the dancers wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone to get near this guy. He screams outsider, screams arrogance, screams in goddamn benjamins and Nezumi knows that the man wouldn’t be interested in any of the other dancers. No, he came here for a reason and that reason is Nezumi and it really proves his theory, doesn’t it? That some stupid fucking rich kid, because he really can’t be older than a few years from Nezumi, drove all the way down to the shittiest area downtown and is definitely going to get mugged because he wanted to drag Nezumi to the private area, press him against the wall and drag his hands up his thighs. Because he wanted to bend Nezumi over and bunch his dress all the way up to his chest, wanted to scratch and yank and moan right in his ear and-

The water around him sloshes around as he washes his hair. He needs to buy more body wash but he has enough to scrub his body clean from all the filth and the hands and the stares of the weekend. He knows that when he’ll finally sit down later with a cup of tea and actually counts how much he really made these past few weekends, it’ll be more than enough.

After, when he’s scrubbed his body pink and all the dirty water has drained out of the tub, he leans forward on his small table, feet tucked under him and bills spread around. Water’s been paid for, electricity and gas is covered. He has enough money left over to not need to work for another few weeks. He was right earlier, and it’s satisfying to know that he can finally relax a little. It’s this moment really that Nezumi knows he’s attractive. Knows it deep enough that he’s harassed and whistled at on his way home from work, even with his dress folded up in his bag and his makeup wiped off his face. He knows it enough to use it as a weapon, because if he’s in control of it he won’t hate himself over it.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed :) this is my first fic haha im so nervous. please leave a comment and tell me how i did :0


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